


Spilled Secrets

by Snarryeyes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Time, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 18:16:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3080153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snarryeyes/pseuds/Snarryeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus’ peaceful weekend is rudely interrupted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spilled Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilyseyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyseyes/gifts).



> Written for Lilyseyes for the 2014 Secret Snarry Swap at Snape_Potter. Prompt: Hogwarts eighth year - Harry is sick or injured and Severus takes care of him. Harry has the habit of talking in his sleep... 
> 
> JKR owns the characters. This is just a bit of fun.

“I beg your pardon?” Severus bristled, one hand curling around the edge of his door, the other around its frame, body rigid as he stared at his visitor.

“I need you to take Potter,” Minerva repeated briskly. As she spoke, the stretcher floating beside her—bearing an unconscious Harry—attempted to nudge Severus out of the way. He remained firmly immovable.

“What, might I ask, have I done to deserve this?”

“Oh, do stop being so melodramatic, Severus. It’ll only be for a couple of days until his injury heals enough to allow him to be discharged. The hospital wing is full, thanks to this dragon pox outbreak, and Poppy has enough on her hands without continually ushering students away from Potter and back to bed. After winning that last Quidditch match in spectacular fashion, and injuring himself in the process, he’s proving even more of a distraction than usual.”

“And yet it is quite all right to inflict this distraction on me.”

“You have the room and the treatment he requires—three times a day, Poppy said. Besides, I thought you and Potter were getting on better these days. You certainly spend enough time together.”

That may have been true, but Severus was unwilling to concede defeat so easily. “I can bear his presence under normal conditions. This is not normal.”

“Be that as it may, there is no alternative.”

“Really? I can think of several. The Forbidden Forest, for one.”

“Severus, be reasonable!”

“And if I agree, what will I receive in return?”

“I’ll take you off night patrols for two weeks.”

“A month.”

Minerva’s eyes narrowed, but Severus knew he had won. “Fine, a month. Now take Harry. I do have other things to attend to today, you know. I’ll check in on him tomorrow.” With that, she spun on her heel and strode away, muttering under her breath as she went. Severus watched her with a satisfied smirk, but it faded as he looked down to his new patient. Perhaps he should have pushed for two months.

~*~ 

It had indeed been a spectacular win for Gryffindor House the previous day, but—as so often seemed to be the case—Potter had paid the price. In catching the Snitch, he’d leapt from his broom and collided with one of the stands. The result had been a badly torn muscle in his back, one which could not be mended quite so quickly and easily as a broken bone. Despite the intense pain, he’d still remained conscious long enough to hold the Snitch aloft victoriously. Idiotic Gryffindor.

Severus pursed his lips as he carefully applied a freshly made batch of healing salve to the injury. He only applied a light pressure to the affected area, but Harry groaned in pain and stirred.

“Lie still,” Severus murmured when Harry attempted to lift his head.

“This isn’t the hospital wing,” came a groggy voice.

“Well spotted,” Severus replied drily. “Minerva requested, nay insisted, that I care for you here instead. You were proving rather a distraction to the other sick students.”

Harry groaned again, although Severus couldn’t tell if it was due to his words or his ministrations.

“Sorry, Severus.”

Severus grunted gruffly but was slightly appeased. Harry’s eighth year at Hogwarts was proving markedly different to those previous. The war had changed everything. Harry was no longer the same man, but then neither was Severus. Harry had known that and, despite the scars littering their shared past, he had fought for Severus with everything that he had. The Wizengamot were powerless in the face of his passionate defence, and they unanimously acquitted Severus of all charges. He was granted the freedom he never thought he’d have, or indeed deserve. But, more than that, for the first time in many years, Severus didn’t feel quite so alone.

And in the process of healing their wounds—wounds that went far beyond the physical—and returning to Hogwarts together, he and Harry had found rather a lot of common ground. A nineteen-year-old Harry was certainly a lot easier to teach, even if he retained a talent for getting himself into trouble. 

Severus blinked, realizing that he’d been rubbing the same area for over a minute, his fingers sliding over the play of taut muscles beneath warm flesh. Clearing his throat, he pulled Harry’s hospital gown back down and replaced the lid on the jar of salve.

“You may turn back over now if you wish.”

With a grunt of effort and several sharp gasps of pain, Harry managed to manoeuvre himself onto his back. The fixed wince on his face lessened when he finally settled, but did not go completely. 

“Thanks.”

“Do you require further pain relief?”

“No, I’ll wait.” At Severus’ raised eyebrow, Harry added, “It’d just send me back to sleep again. I’d rather stay awake. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Severus couldn’t help but look rather incredulous. “I do not believe so.”

“There’s got to be something I can do while I’m stuck here.” Harry looked around, squinting at the room’s décor, which consisted mostly of books. “Where am I exactly, anyway?”

“My study,” answered Severus, getting to his feet. “I believed this to be the most suitable place for your stay. I merely transfigured the desk into a bed.”

“It’s nice,” Harry remarked with a valiant attempt at cheer. “At least there isn’t a shortage of reading material.”

Severus’ nostrils flared slightly at that, at the thought of his well-ordered books falling victim to Potter’s particular brand of chaos, but, he reasoned, there was only so much Harry could do in his current state, and indeed only so much he could reach. His thoughts returning to the pile of marking awaiting him on his desk, Severus turned to go.

“Call me if you require anything.”

“Perhaps we can finish that chess game later,” Harry suggested as Severus reached the door. Unable to suppress a smirk, Severus turned.

“Judging by your past performances, that will take little time.”

Severus thought he heard a good-natured, “Git,” from Harry before the door closed between them. He allowed a fully-fledged smile for a moment before it was wiped away, replaced by an unsettling feeling that allowing Harry to stay was rather more dangerous that he had anticipated.

~*~

He managed an hour of marking before Harry begged to be moved to the sitting room, fed up with staring at the ceiling and the books he couldn’t reach. As it was almost five, Severus called upon the house-elves for dinner, and two steaming plates of sausage and mash arrived minutes later. Harry’s appetite was dampened somewhat by his pain, but he ate a reasonable amount, and even managed a bit of pudding when it arrived. 

After that, with Harry proving something of a distraction, Severus’ progress in his marking slowed. Finally, he pushed the pile of parchments away and laid his quill down. He would have to finish later that evening when his patient was asleep.

As if waiting for this surrender, Harry looked up as soon as the scratching of Severus’ quill ceased, his expression hopeful. “Chess?”

Severus refrained from rolling his eyes. “Very well.” Standing, he summoned the chess set that he’d put aside the previous week. They had been close to finishing the game, within a few moves in fact, but Harry had needed to get back to his dormitory before curfew.

Gingerly propping himself up on cushions, Harry surveyed the board laid down on the table before him. “I’m black, right?” 

“Alas, not, Mr Potter. As you well know.”

Harry grinned, a little of his spark back. “Worth a try.”

~*~

As Severus had predicted, he claimed victory in only a few moves. Of course, Harry immediately requested a rematch and, with little else to do, Severus accepted. Truthfully, he was rather short on chess opponents these days and relished the challenge. Harry was by no means a master, but he was improving. 

Halfway through the second game, Ron and Hermione arrived to visit Harry, and Severus saw little alternative but to let them in. When he moved to clear the game away, however, Harry put out a hand to stop him.

“We can still play. Ron and Hermione won’t mind. Right?” he added, looking to them. Both shook their heads, Hermione’s smile slightly more convincing than Ron’s, who looked like he’d just been bludgeoned with something heavy. But despite his initial hesitation, the game quickly drew Ron in and he even went so far as to mutter pointers to Harry when he thought Severus wasn’t paying attention. Hermione was content to watch, conversing easily with Harry when it was Severus’ turn to move, but even she was drawn into the game in the final stages, with Harry’s knight and queen valiantly fighting it out against Severus’ knight and bishop.

In the end, Harry won the day, although he celebrated a little too much and aggravated his injury. Pale from the spike of pain, beads of sweat on his brow, he still kept his smile. Nevertheless, Ron and Hermione took that as their cue to leave and, after ushering them out of the door, Severus went to fetch the healing salve.

“You should be more careful,” he admonished, helping Harry onto his side. “You could do further damage.”

“I know,” Harry said, voice tight with pain as Severus rubbed a generous amount of the salve into his skin. “I got a bit carried away. I did win, though,” he added, and Severus could practically hear his grin return. 

Shaking his head, Severus carefully continued his task. Years of playing Quidditch, coupled with fighting a war, had turned a scrawny boy into an extremely well-toned man. Hero status aside, it wasn’t hard to see why he constantly had a flock of girls following him around everywhere. It made Harry uncomfortable, of course, not least because he was not that way inclined—something he had admitted to Severus in one of their many conversations. The war had brought a clarity to his life and he was determined not to waste a second of it pretending. Severus rather envied him, and it made his position all the more difficult. 

He lifted his hand from Harry’s back and turned away, wiping it clean. “That should suffice until morning, as long as you refrain from the dramatic.”

Harry snorted. “I’ll try my best.” He shifted onto his back again and winced, gritting his teeth. “Could I have that pain relief now, please?” 

Severus nodded. “One moment.” Fetching a bottle from the small potions store he kept in his quarters, he summoned a glass and carefully poured one dose. Harry swallowed it in one gulp, grimacing slightly at the taste.

“Bitter.”

“Yet highly effective.”

“Mmm.” Harry’s eyes slipped closed and Severus stood, intent on getting back to his marking, but he’d barely turned when a fumbling hand caught his arm. “Severus.” He looked back, dark eyes meeting pain-filled green. “Thank you.” 

“I hardly had a choice in the matter.”

“Maybe not,” Harry said, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “But you’ve always looked after me anyway.” 

Severus found himself at a loss for words, but fortunately none were necessary. Harry’s eyes closed again and within moments he was asleep.

~*~

Despite regaining some peace and quiet, and the remainder of his evening, Severus couldn’t quite keep his mind on his marking. His eyes kept drifting to the still form tucked up on his couch. More than once, he considered moving Harry back to his bed in the study, but he needed to sleep and the salve needed time to work unimpeded by movement.

At a little past eleven, Severus was on his final piece—a particularly dismal essay on the uses of dragon parts in potion making—when he heard Harry say something. Assuming that he had at last woken up, Severus again glanced at the couch, ready with a comment about the virtue of silencing charms when in the company of loud snorers, but to his surprise, Harry was still fast asleep. For a moment, Severus wondered if perhaps he had imagined it, but then Harry spoke again, a mumble of words mixed with a loud exhale and a restless shift in position. The only one Severus could decipher was his name.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Severus stood and moved closer, careful not to make a sound that could disturb his sleeping patient. Yes, Harry was still fast asleep—there was no doubt about it. And he was dreaming. Clearly Severus was playing some part of that dream, but what?

Harry’s face creased in a sudden frown, and this time there was no mistaking the words. “No… Severus, don’t!”

Something twisted unpleasantly inside Severus. So he was still the monster, even now, after all that had passed between them, he was a source of distress. Clenching his jaw, he stepped closer, intent on waking Harry and returning him to his room. Tomorrow he’d ask Minerva to make other arrangements.

“No, don’t!” Harry said again. Severus reached out, but before his fingers could make contact, Harry continued. “Don’t leave, Severus. Please!”

Severus stilled, unsure if he had heard right.

“Don’t leave me,” Harry said, this time a whimper. “I need you.”

Uncertainly, Severus moved his hand up to gently brush the hair from Harry’s sweat-soaked brow. “I’m here, Harry.”

Harry seemed to hear him, his face relaxing a fraction. “Severus…”

“I’m here. What do you need?”

“You…” Harry sighed, turning his head as if seeking Severus’ touch. “…It’s always been you.”

Severus was quite sure that he was now the one who looked like he’d been bludgeoned, the enormity of Harry’s words crashing down upon him. He had never thought for one moment… never dared let himself believe. He gently carded his fingers through Harry’s hair, feeling the truth of Harry’s confession in the magic that softly responded to his touch, and his heart soared.

Now came the question of what to do next. Now that Harry had quietened and seemed to be once again sleeping peacefully, Severus decided to carefully levitate him back to his room rather than wake him. If there were conversations to be had, they would come later, when Harry was ready. For now, he needed rest.

~*~

Harry was already awake when Severus checked in on him the following morning, and the difference in his complexion was immediately noticeable. He smiled when Severus commented on it.

“I haven’t slept that well in quite a while.”

Severus bit back the question he wanted to ask, replacing it with, “And your back?”

“It feels a lot better. Look.” Harry pushed himself into a sitting position with only the trace of a cringe, a marked improvement on the day before. Still, Severus reached out to steady him, knowing it was wise not to push things too quickly. He pretended not to feel the instant pulse of Harry’s magic when they touched.

“I think we should continue with the salve for at least another day or two nevertheless. Stay there, I shall go and fetch it.”

After the night’s revelations, touching Harry for any length of time was a harder task, especially when it was accompanied by Harry’s quiet moans of appreciation. He was almost relieved when Minerva arrived for her promised check-in.

“How are we doing?” she asked, straight to the point.

“My patient has improved considerably,” Severus replied, standing to wipe his hands. “I, on the other hand—“

“Oh, hush, Severus. That dour face doesn’t fool me anymore. So, Harry,” she continued, forestalling Severus’ biting retort, “you’re feeling better?”

“Much,” Harry nodded. Severus could tell that he was trying not to laugh. “Se—Professor Snape has taken very good care of me.”

“As I knew he would,” Minerva said, aiming a smirk in Severus’ direction, which he pointedly ignored. “Well, in that case, I think you should be able to return to Gryffindor Tower today, and rejoin your classes tomorrow. There are only a few weeks left until graduation, after all.”

“Great,” Harry said, smiling, although he suddenly didn’t seem quite so jovial.

“I’ll leave you to it, then. Oh, and Severus,” she added, turning at the door. “Poppy needs more of your fever potion. She’s almost out again.”

Severus inclined his head. “Tell her I shall brew a fresh batch this afternoon.”

“Excellent.”

 

A silence descended with Minerva’s departure. As Severus fastened the lid on the salve, Harry absently picked at a stray thread on his sleeve. 

“I’ll send a house-elf for fresh clothes,” Severus said when he was done.

Harry nodded, forcing a smile. “Thanks.”

Severus studied him silently for a moment, Harry’s words from the night before coming back to him. Perhaps the time was now. 

“You seem unhappy. You wished to stay?”

Harry looked up, meeting his gaze. “What if I did?” Severus didn’t say anything, but Harry seemed to take it as encouragement. He carefully stood, a reckless fire lighting in his eyes as he moved close enough to touch. Half of his pyjama buttons were still undone. “What if…” He searched Severus’ face and then in a flash, as if afraid that he might change his mind, he pressed his lips hard to Severus’. 

When Harry quickly pulled away again, his expression shadowed by doubt, fear, and the beginnings of self-recrimination, Severus reached out to cup his face, drawing it up to meet his gaze. “If you wished to stay, I would certainly have no objections.” He glimpsed a flash of emotion in Harry’s eyes, a spark of hope flaring outwards, expanding into something greater, and then Severus was kissing him, properly this time. Harry welcomed him, his fingers curling tightly into Severus’ robes as his lips parted with the ghost of a whimper.

Severus felt Harry’s fingers shift their grip and then slide up to tug at his buttons. It was this that gave him pause, made him take the smallest step back even though his heart and soul was urging him forward.

“Are you—” 

Warm fingers instantly covered his lips. “Yes, I’m sure.” 

Holding his gaze, Severus could see Harry’s sincerity shining brightly amid the green, along with something deeper—something that, until now, Severus had only caught a glimpse of. He cupped Harry’s face again and kissed him, a gentle kiss that conveyed far greater intimacy than any so far.

“Do you trust me to take care of you?” he murmured, cradling Harry’s skull.

Harry smiled. “Always.”

~*~

After throwing up his wards to prevent unwanted visitors, Severus lost track of time, the morning passing in a blur of sensations. Amid them, moments of clarity that would forever be burned into Severus’ memory… Harry’s head thrown back against the pillow, his hand flexing rhythmically on Severus’ shoulder, beautifully vocal as Severus coaxed his orgasm from him and swallowed every drop… Harry lightly, reverently, kissing the scar on his neck, then every other, even the faded mark on his left forearm… Pressed flush against Harry’s back, hand over his heart as he slowly slipped inside, Harry’s lips faltering in their pressure against his for just a moment before returning in full force… Slowly coming undone within him… Harry’s face as he himself came undone.

“I wasn’t sure we’d ever get to this,” Harry whispered afterwards, tucked into Severus’ side.

“Nor I,” Severus answered truthfully. Having Harry in his arms was something he had never dared hope for. He paused before adding, “Are you aware that you talk in your sleep?”

“Ron’s mentioned it—” Harry suddenly stopped and shifted to look at him, realization dawning. “What did you hear me say?”

Smirking, Severus kissed his frown away. “Enough…” 

Harry groaned, burying his flushed face. “I normally remember to put up a silencing charm.”

“Then I am thankful you did not.”

When Harry raised his head again, he was smiling. “Me too.” He rested his chin on Severus’ chest with a small sigh, his expression sobering. “I don’t really have to go today, do I?”

“Oh, I’m sure I can wangle at least a few more days for you here,” Severus replied. “I will simply tell Minerva that further treatment is required.”

Harry smoothed a palm across Severus’ skin, circling a dark nipple before sliding it lower. “As long as it’s this sort of treatment,” he purred.

Feeling a spark of renewed arousal, Severus rolled Harry onto his back with a predatory smile. “I believe that can be arranged.”

~*~

“Harry’s injured himself _again_?” Minerva repeated. “How?”

Severus had found her in the hospital wing when he’d gone to drop off a fresh batch of potions, checking on her other sick students. “He obviously tried to do too much too quickly. I think it best that he continues to stay with me for the time being.”

“I thought you didn’t want to care for him?”

“What I want is irrelevant. With the hospital wing full, I see no alternative. You’ll need to find someone to cover my classes, of course. Fortunately the examinations have all been completed, so there is relatively little—“

“Yes, yes, fine.” She gave Severus a piercing look. “Make sure you keep me informed.”

“Of course.”

 

As Minerva watched Severus stride away purposefully, Poppy appeared at her elbow. “Well?” she murmured, low enough so that only Minerva would hear. “Did it work?”

Minerva smirked at Severus’ back. “Yes… I’d say so.”


End file.
